


Reminiscence

by fuckyeahjeanmarco



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, jeanmarco, jeanmarco au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 11:42:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3118859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckyeahjeanmarco/pseuds/fuckyeahjeanmarco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>JeanMarco AU where these idiots are just two 87 year olds recalling how they fell in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

I don't remember how I fell in love with Jean Kirstein. I don't even remember when it happened, but I do remember everything else.  
I remember the way he would crinkle his nose and the redness that would paint his neck and cheeks when I would kiss him in public. I remember how he would screw up his face when he drank coffee that had sugar in it. I remember how he always had his lower lip tucked between his teeth while concentrating on something.  
I remember the song that was playing in the background when we first kissed. It was a sloppy first kiss. There was loads of saliva. I remember him going in for another kiss, a “redo kiss”, he had called it. I remember the way my heart pounded, thrashing against my rib cage inside of my chest. I feared that it would fall out.  
I remember our thirteenth date. I punched him and broke his nose. He was drunk and kissed someone else. I was crying. I also remember him coming over to my house with a shit ton of movies, some pizza, and beer as soon as he woke up the next morning. That was his apology. I forgave him.  
I remember our hundredth date. We drove out to outlook seven miles out of town with a boom box and crappy champagne that tasted like piss. I remember him kissing me like my lips were vodka and he was a drunkard. I remember hyperventilating and almost passing out because he gave me a promise ring.  
I remember our hundred and thirteenth date. He proposed to me at the outlook. We both got drunk. I dropped the ring in the lake below. We laughed our asses off before getting caught by the city patrol. That day, he ticked “ride in a cop car” off of his bucket list.  
I remember our first pet, an akita. I remember our children, three boys and one girl. I remember the accident. I remember our little daughter dying. I remember the pain and misery that followed. I remember us getting out of that dark place and being substantially happy again. I remember us travelling the whole world with our sons.  
I remember everything but how or when I fell in love with him.  
Hopefully I'll remember it by the end of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. This is my first time uploading a fanfic on the internet so reviews and criticisms are highly appreciated. I will be tracking the tag reminiscence by fuckyeahjeanmarco on tumblr. You can refer to my tumblr, fuckyeahjeanmarco, for updates regarding this fic.


	2. Une Mémoire - October, 2003

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New friendships, new nicknames.

I was 7 years old and in grade 1. I would’ve been an average kid except, I wasn’t. I was pretty tall for a seven year old, the tallest in the entire grade. I was meek, shy, and feeble. I didn’t have any friends I’d trade half my peanut butter and jelly sandwich with. I didn’t like going home, I hated not getting homework, and I read a lot.  
I also had a shitload of freckles everywhere. Literally everywhere. I hated them but everyone else seemed to be enthralled by them. They would play join the dots on my arms, draw inconclusive shapes, etc. they would even write their own names. The kids weren’t the only ones who’d annoy me. I distinctly remember this substitute we had for math one day and she drew on my arms, including every single freckle in her masterpiece. It’s like when you get a cast and everyone wants to sign it, except my freckles weren’t temporary. This would go on forever. I never really stopped anyone or said anything but I vehemently loathed people touching my freckles.  
I guess someone finally noticed.  
It happened during recess. I was being drawn on, as usual, when this slightly pudgy boy with terrible hair walked up to the pests annoying me, told them story about how his father has a showcase stocked with military grade ammunition and scared them all away. I guess watching them run away shrieking like a kanima on a sugar rush amused him beyond imagination because he could not control the guffaws that escaped, his hands resting on his knees, back crouched. It was when I extended my hand towards him that he got himself together and spoke. I noticed that he had quite a firm grip for a seven year old. I also noticed that half of the peanut butter that was lathered onto his hand had moved on to mine. I licked it up. He laughed some more.  
I realized then another reason why I wasn’t an average kid. Up till now, I had known that guys like girls, guys and girls get married. Never once had I seen two members of the same gender getting married. Never had I heard about a guy having a crush on a guy. I had a crush on a seven year old pudgy kid who had peanut butter spread on his hands. I wasn’t an average kid. I was special. Little did I know that this kid right in front of me would keep on reminding me just how special I am every single day of my life. It was on a chilly autumn afternoon that I finally made my first friend.  
We spent the rest of the time making mud pies, flimsy sand castles with sandbox sand and then knocking them down with trucks and cars, chasing other kids with insects we caught by the garden, and going head first down the slide. I didn’t even know his name.  
He sat next to me in class after that. He let me use his fancy pencil. I let him use my freckles for basic math problems. I copied his social studies homework. He copied my english homework. I would mispronounce his last name. He would say butt instead of Bodt. I called him jelly bean. He called me freckle butt. This went on for days. Nobody bothered us. People also stopped annoying me. The peace wasn’t everlasting though.  
We had two transfer students. Sasha and Connie. They were friends since birth, apparently, and had just moved to our town from the city. Their fathers were business partners and had decided to open up a firm here so they had to relocate. The children didn’t mind, they told us. As long as they were with each other, they didn’t mind anything. Jean laughed at that. He also called Connie a wuss.  
Sasha had red hair. Everyone was fascinated by it. Connie was bald. Everyone was fascinated by that too. Hell, they were probably fascinated by the carpeted floors too. They were all a bunch of dumb asses, or so Sasha had stated as the reason why she wanted to be friends with Jean and I, not the others. Sasha, she was fascinated by us while Connie just followed her around like a lost little puppy.  
From then on, it was just the four of us. Jean and I let Sasha and Connie in on the secrets we had, the four of us made weekly Pokémon card trades, daily lunch trades, and hourly pencil trades. Every time we played house, Jean would be the husband and I would be the wife. Sasha’s rules. I wanted to protest but I feared for my life. She bit a third grader once because he cut the line. Sasha’s the kind of person you never mess with.  
The peace we had before Sasha and Connie was nice but this little group consisting of the four of us was way better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. I don't really know what to write here but uh, criticism is really appreciated. Also, I will be tracking the tag reminiscence by fuckyeahjeanmarco on tumblr.  
> Lastly, I've decided to uploaded short "chapters" so that I can upload a lot and frankly, the thought of long chapters makes me panic. Bear with me on this ? Thanks.


End file.
